Hello, monsoon

I am no stranger to monsoons and strong storms having spent many rainy seasons in Hong Kong, which gets battered by typhoons every four months of the year. But I was wholly unprepared to find myself outside in the middle of a monsoon storm in Mumbai.

While shopping with three other classmates in Mumbai’s Bandra district—where the art of bargaining is quickly mastered—we were hit by a sudden torrent of rain and wind so strong I was surprised the shopkeepers’ merchandise stayed put. But they must be prepared for that sort of thing. Many of the shoes on display were, in fact, nailed to pieces of wood. We decided to seek refuge beneath a layer of tarp that one of the stall owners had installed above his display of trinkets and knickknacks. We huddled there for what seemed like an hour, standing on the tiny strip of available walkway between us and the cars speeding by.

What really amazed me was the tenacity of the local people in forging ahead to their destinations, despite the pelting rain, debris the heavy winds blew up, and sloshing through water that became instantly muddy from the dirt and litter on the ground. Most were wearing basic sandals and cotton clothing. For the woman, their saris were able to maintain its usual vibrancy. It was such a sight to stand there and watch the city carry on with its affairs despite conditions that might have driven many people in the U.S. to secure themselves in their rooms until the storm had passed.

Surely, after some time, the storm subsided, the heat returned, and we continued on our way, drenched, a little braver, and a little less fazed.